


truth or drink

by sassymajesty



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angelina isn't really an original character but she's also not the actress, F/F, Lexa's mom, it's truth or dare but with drinking instead of dare basically, we'll go with that one
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-27
Updated: 2020-02-27
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:46:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22928923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassymajesty/pseuds/sassymajesty
Summary: “I’m Clarke,” she starts, pointing first to herself, then to Angelina, “And this is my mother in law, Angelina.”The guy nods and moves to the next question, “Who roped you into this?” From the cheeky smile he tries and fails to hide, he knows only too well how they ended up in this situation.Angelina takes the lead, winking at Clarke before scanning the sea of headphones and cameras to find the culprit. She smiles, the tip of her tongue lapping at her upper lip, “My daughter, she works here.”
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Angelina, Clarke Griffin/Lexa, Lexa & Angelina
Comments: 28
Kudos: 471





	truth or drink

**Author's Note:**

> Based on these [asks](https://sassymajesty.tumblr.com/tagged/brangelina-&-lexa). Here goes a _huge_ thank you to everyone who helped build this little family - from the ground up, starting with how Lexa deserves to have a loving mom, all the way to Clarke losing it when meeting her mom. This one is for you guys!! I hope I did justice to their mother-daughter bond :')
> 
> You can find a moodboard for this post on Tumblr, [here](https://sassymajesty.tumblr.com/post/611149913740525568).

With all the cameras around them, Clarke likes to believe  _ someone _ in charge of video editing will see the panic in her eyes and edit some footage with a record scratching sound effect, frame freezing and a voiceover saying “ _ Yep, that’s me. So you’re probably wondering how I got myself into this situation _ .”

Maybe Lexa herself will do it, just for the hell of it. She sure knows enough about video editing to make that happen and seems determined to make her wife the butt of a joke the whole set is privy to.

There’s just oh so much that could go wrong.

Playing truth or dare is risky on its own, but it’s something usually done among friends, among forgiving people who give around zero fucks about what comes out of it. Playing truth or  _ drink _ is bound to be a disaster. Playing truth or drink with your goddamn mother-in-law is a recipe for alcohol poisoning.

Clarke eyes the cards stacked in a neat pile in front of her,  _ truth or drink _ written in a stylized font on the back of each. There’s  _ so much _ that could go wrong. Depending on what questions those cards have on them, she could easily walk out of here knowing she’s not welcomed in the Woods household anymore.

She and Lexa started dating when they were sixteen, and getting caught sneaking in through the bedroom window at half past midnight never seemed like anything to worry about. They’ve been together for twelve years, have been married for three of those, and there’s far too much in these years that could make Lexa’s mother look at her differently – or stop looking at her altogether.

Angelina, for her part, looks the exact opposite of how Clarke feels. 

Her shoulders are drawn back with an ease that  _ must _ be something in their bloodline, because Lexa holds herself the same, a soft smile tugging at her lips while a makeup person finishes working her powder. It’s just enough for them not to shine on camera, but that alone makes Clarke gawk at her mother-in-law a little bit. She’s seen Angelina with a professionally done makeup for their wedding and has seen her with sleepy eyes in the early morning when they stay a weekend at the lake cabin, and the woman is always drop dead gorgeous.

Taking in a shaky breath that does nothing to really calm her nerves, Clarke looks towards where Lexa should be. It takes her a moment to find her wife – she finds her leaning towards a monitor and pointing to different parts of the screen, her other hand covering the microphone on the headset she’s wearing.

Part of Clarke wants to give her the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they were pressed for time and needed another set of participants for them to be able to whip up a whole video, and Lexa thought of them. Maybe it really was a last minute thing that she didn’t think through.

The soft smile she gives Clarke when their eyes meet tells her that’s exactly what happened, and there’s nothing more to it.

But the other part of Clarke  _ knows _ Lexa will have the time of her life watching her wife squirm and sweat in front of her mom.

“Nervous?” Angie, who’s been Mrs. Woods until only a couple of Christmasses ago, asks, taking Clarke out of her reverie. Her voice is soft and comforting, as mom-like as one can get. It only makes Clarke’s stomach do another uncomfortable loop.

Clarke waits until it’s just the two of them to answer. She doesn’t need Lexa’s coworkers hearing her voice shaking. “Terrified.” 

“What do you have to hide, Mrs. Griffin-Woods?” Angelina asks, her voice far too amused for Clarke to fully believe she’s not in on the practical joke Lexa is sure to be playing on her. But well, at least hearing her full last name makes her a little calmer.

She’s family, after all. Angelina made sure to tell her that countless times.

Before Clarke can answer, a voice comes from behind the cameras, “You guys ready?” Clarke’s first instinct is to say  _ nope _ , but they both nod. There’s a few shouts and the cameras start rolling, a kid walks into the frame with a clapperboard and walks out just as fast – they’re a go. “Okay, who are you guys?”

It takes a moment before Clarke finds whoever is talking to them. The voice from behind the cameras is now leaning against a table, holding a clipboard, and Clarke vaguely recognizes him, but can’t place a name.

“I’m Clarke,” she starts, pointing first to herself, then to Angelina, “And this is my mother in law, Angelina.”

The guy nods and moves to the next question, “Who roped you into this?” From the cheeky smile he tries and fails to hide, he knows only too well how they ended up in this situation.

Angelina takes the lead, winking at Clarke before scanning the sea of headphones and cameras to find the culprit. She smiles, the tip of her tongue lapping at her upper lip, “My daughter, she works here.”

Clipboard falls to his side and a cheeky smile colors his expression as the guy looks towards the back. There’s a commotion, barely stilled laughter filling the set, then Lexa comes out. Her expression is the same one of a cat that has been caught in the middle of bumping expensive crystals to the ground – knowing she’s in trouble, barely caring at all.

Clarke welcomes her with a smile. Most of her worries vanish as Lexa walks towards them, headset hooked around her neck, braid falling over her shoulder. It’s always been like that – from PSAT exam day to walking down the aisle on their wedding, Lexa always calms her down. And oh, the wave of quietude that washes over Clarke when Lexa presses a kiss to her temple and wraps her arm around her shoulders could never be matched to anything else.

“Hi, mom,” Lexa greets her, looking only slightly apologetic for the whole situation, waving her hand a little.

The stare Angelina shoots Lexa is enough to make a chill run down  _ Clarke _ ’s spine. She’s been on the receiving end of a stare just like that a few times in her life. Once from Angelina herself – when she snuck into Lexa’s bedroom in the middle of the night and forgot to sneak back out before it was morning and time for school – and a few times from her wife. It must be a genetic trait passed down through generations.

“You’re in so much trouble,” Angelina threatens her daughter, but the smile on her lips turn it into more of a teasing than anything else. Clarke has no doubt Lexa will pay dearly for this though.

Clipboard guy is back at it, clearing his throat to get their attention, “Would you three like to start it off with a shot?”

“ _ Oh, yes _ .” “ _ Yes, please _ .” “ _ Good idea _ .” The three of them say almost in unison as someone from the directing team brings an extra shot glass for Lexa. Both Clarke and Angelina pour some tequila for themselves, Lexa reaches for the whiskey. Glasses clink and the three of them down their shots without even wincing.

They’re all pretty used to alcohol at this point in their lives, but  _ damn _ , it goes down smooth. Clarke makes a mental note to ask Lexa what brand they’re working with when they get home.

Lexa gets a sign to get back behind the cameras, and she leans down to give Clarke a quick peck on the lips. She takes whiskey and doesn’t even mind the heat crawling up her neck at the thought of thousands of people seeing this on YouTube. “Good luck.”

“Good luck to you,” Clarke whispers back, as Lexa mouths “ _ be good _ ” to her mom, “You’re the subject here, babe.”

That gives Lexa pause – she really didn’t think it through. 

But it’s too late to take it back now, and Lexa finds a place near the clipboard guy as he explains to Clarke and Angelina how it’ll work. It’s pretty straightforward. They’ll take turns reading a question from the stack of cards in front of them, and the other can either answer it truthfully or take a shot. 

Clarke is pretty sure she won’t be driving home any time soon.

Clipboard guy gestures for Angelina to start. She grabs the card from the top of the pile and reads it to herself, a smile tugging at her lips, “How long have you known each other before you slept together?”

Oh. They’re starting off relatively easy. Maybe she can do this, after all. Clarke does some math, counting the months in her head, “Seven months, I think? After we started dating.”

“Really? That long?” Angelina’s eyebrows shoot up to her hairline, a surprised look coloring her face. Well, granted, Clarke only met Angelina after they were together for four months, and didn’t dare to stay over past their bedtime until five more months, but the disbelief in her voice is either amusing or offensive, Clarke can’t tell.

“We were sixteen! We, uh…” Clarke jumps into an explanation she soon realizes she doesn’t exactly have the courage to say out loud, not with only one shot in her. “We did other stuff first, you know? Testing the waters.” It sounds better than saying they’d make out in Clarke’s bedroom until one of them chickened out or one of her parents got home, and they’d scramble to find the homework they were supposed to be working on. Clarke grabs the card on top of her stack, “Is it okay for us to have sex on your house?”

Oh. 

Fuck.

“Been there and done that,” Angelina says, managing to sound not at all bothered by that. Clarke, however, would love for the ground to open up and swallow her whole.

_ Of course _ she and Lexa had had sex in their parents’ home before. They were teenagers who were one, very much in love, and two, blissfully unaware of the consequences of their actions. Every sleepover, most of their homework dates, pretty much every other dinner invitation ended up with them in bed. Or the couch, if they were alone in the house, pretending to watch a movie.

But to know for sure that her  _ mother-in-law _ knows it, oh, that’s something else. “Did you hear us?” Clarke is mortified, and it shows in her voice.

“Yes, once,” Angelina says, barely fighting a laughter that’s soon joined by half the crew. “We came home and you two were at it. It wasn’t loud screams or anything, just the bed kinda racking.”

“Oh my god,” Clarke groans, wondering how she’ll be able to face Angie next time they’re at her house. She sneaks a look at Lexa, only to find her holding her head high, spine ramrod straight. “I need a shot. I’m gonna take a shot”

Clarke pours herself a shot, so big that it counts as two, and downs it in one go. It scorches her throat and warms her stomach, tingling her lips just enough to win over her embarrassment.

When the laughter dies down, Angelina gets another card, “Are you guys gonna put me in a home?” She didn’t read it beforehand, and the idea shocks her enough that her eyes go wide.

That’s an easy answer. “No, I’d rather you live with us. I couldn’t see you in a home. You’re staying.”

It seems to have been  _ too _ easy of an answer, because Angelina beats her to it and picks up a new card before Clarke can even process that it’s her turn. Oh, the alcohol is making her slow already. “How often do you two have sex?”

Well. They might have to cut the game a little short, because there’s no way in hell she’s answering that. She is absolutely  _ not _ about to tell her mother-in-law that they have sex about four times a week, in general – or that each time they do, each of them come at least three times.

Clarke reaches for the tequila and pours herself a shot, careful not to overflow the glass. They barely even started, and she has already accepted her fate of dying by alcohol poisoning

“Not enough, huh?” Angelina chimes in the moment the tequila touches Clarke’s lips, winking at her in the most devious way. “You need to have sex more, keep that flame alive.”

It makes Clarke choke on her drink.

The tequila, that was going down very smoothly, gets trapped under her windpipe. For a paralyzing second, Clarke can’t breathe and can’t cough the tequila out of her lungs. But soon it comes sputtering out, dribbling down her cheek and burning its way to her nostrils.

Maybe her death will be something else entirely.

It takes Clarke a moment to find her bearings again, clutching to the table with one hand and coughing into the other, much to Angelina’s delight – she’s  _ cackling _ , not even trying to disguise her amusement. It gets to a point Angelina is laughing while looking up, to keep her mascara from smudging.

After a glass of water Lexa (who better be grateful for the lengths her wife goes to keep her mom from knowing their sex life) brings her, Clarke feels a little better, and reaches for her next card. “If we split up, would you still want a relationship with me?” Her voice is hoarse and she coughs a little bit more, noticing how her shit is covered in tequila.

Angelina reaches out and cradles Clarke’s hand in hers. “Of course I would, we’re family now,” she says, looking her in the eyes, to make sure she knows it. “Those rings could go,” Angelina points to the engagement ring and wedding band on her left hand, before pointing to the one on her right – it’s a simple gold ring, a lash triad with emeralds on top. “But that one is staying.”

Her eyes water, and Clarke blinks the tears away. It’s far too early for this. She squeezes Angelina’s hand before raising her hand so the camera could pick up the ring, “She gave me this for my college graduation.”

“That’s when I knew you’d be in my family forever,” Angelina says, with a squeeze of her own, before reaching for the next card. “Have you ever cheated on my daughter?”

Clarke thinks for a moment, then reaches for her shot glass. The gasp that comes out of Angelina makes up for the choking incident a moment ago. “I’m kidding!” Clarke assures her, laughing harder than she should. “I would never.”

“Good to hear. Shit, kid, you scared me.” Her calling Clarke  _ kid _ dates back to their high school days, and it’s always something that makes her smile fondly.

Looking at Lexa, who’s moved to lean on a different desk now and is whispering directions to the girl behind the monitor, Clarke can tell that she’s relaxed a lot since they first started this game. Maybe it’s that one shot of tequila already doing its job. Clarke grabs the next card, “Would you forgive me if I cheated on your daughter? What would you do?”

“I’d have to hurt you,” Angelina answers, and Clarke knows that she means it. Her eyes become cold and hard, her mom instincts kicking in at the mere thought. “If you broke my daughter’s heart, I’d have to break something of yours. Maybe your leg. Or two arms, it all depends on how bad the damage is.”

“What if she cheated on me?” Clarke asks, before she can hold herself back. Three shots of tequila in an almost empty stomach is making the edges of her vision blurred, is lifting any inhibition she has.

The change in script makes Lexa stop whatever she’s doing and look up, caught up in the exchange. She’s not the only one who’s paying attention to what their answers are, but she’s the only one Clarke truly cares about. 

Angelina’s answer comes just as quick and certain. “I’d do the same to her,” once again, her voice leaves no room for doubts. “You’re family, love”

If she has to press her lips together and fight the tears that are building in her eyes, Clarke fully blames it on the tequila. But she knows she can barely handle her mother-in-law being sweet like this, even sober. “I think you should take another two shots to catch up with me. I’m half a compliment away from crying here.”

Her soft expression turns into a wide, amused smile. “Why would you cry, honey?”

The pet names that Clarke never had to work hard to earn, but is grateful for anyway, aren’t making this any easier. “You’re being too sweet, and you  _ know  _ I’m a crier when I’m drunk. You’ve seen me lose my marbles over a game of Connect Four.”

It’s hardly one of her proudest moments.

During their last year in college, Lexa invited Clarke to spend Thanksgiving break with her, in her house, with her parents. It was the year Clarke’s parents could only stay in the same room together if they had a screaming match going on, so she agreed. And neither Mr. nor Mrs. Woods had a problem with Clarke drinking more wine than she were supposed to – they knew how things were at her house, knew nothing but alcohol could soothe Clarke.

After dinner was over and relatives had gone home, Lexa pulled out the old Connect Four and they watched her parents play a vicious game – it ended up in a tie, both of them almost going at each other’s throats. Then it was time for Clarke and Lexa to play, and that ended up with Lexa connecting four of her yellow disks at the bottom, because Clarke didn’t have enough brain cells left to come up with a semi decent strategy.

Angelina smiles at the memory, and Clarke doesn’t have to look at Lexa to know she’s smiling too.

“You do realize the whole point of this is for one of us to be drunker than the other?” Angelina explains the game to her, like a mother talking to her toddler. And Clarke nods, pouts, watches Angelina roll her eyes and relent, “Fine.”

It’s been a while since Clarke has downed multiple shots of tequila in such little time. Back in college, when she was dragging Lexa from frat party to frat party and chugging tequila from the bottle like it was water, three shots wouldn’t have affected her this much. But she’s changed hard liquor for wine, Friday nights at wild parties for sleeping just before nine. And three shots are  _ a lot _ .

So Angelina indulges her, borrows her shot glass, pours two healthy shots. She toasts to Clarke and downs one, then the other, never wincing or even frowning at the alcohol. Someone has a  _ good _ tolerance – Clarke’s oh so tipsy brain didn’t remember.

Picking up another card, Clarke reads it fast, “What don’t you like about me?” 

Again, it’s not really how things are supposed to go. But Clarke tells herself she’s just buying time for the tequila to start working. It’s her who winces at that question. It could lead them down a rabbit hole, and the tequila won’t make anyone less honest.

Well, it’s some comfort to know she won’t be fighting tears in this question.

Angelina runs her fingers through her hair, piling it all over one shoulder, then folds her hands on the edge of the table as she lets the question wash over her and waits for the answer to come up. It makes Clarke smile, because oh, it’s  _ such _ a Lexa thing to do when she’s pretending she’s sober – good to know where it came from.

“Do you need to drink?” Clarke teases, reaching for her glass and the tequila, her smile turned into a smirk.

Putting a hand up to stop her, Angelina looks at her from under her lashes, before tipping her chin up and giving Clarke a soft smile. “Oh, you are so stubborn. Sometimes I just want to shake you out of it,” Angelina gestures in the air in front of her, like she’s grabbing Clarke by the shoulder and shaking her – which, for the record, she has done before. “And you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. You need to learn how to let other people help you with that load.”

Clarke pretends to consider it, tilting her head to the side. “Okay. That’s fair. I can take that.” 

Laugh echoes through the set – they both knew those were the things Angelina didn’t like about Clarke. She’s never been one to keep her thoughts to herself. Clarke lets her gaze wander, until she finds Lexa, who’s shaking her head like she can’t believe this is her family. Nonetheless, she smiles at Clarke when their eyes meet, and Lexa sees her wife wrinkling her nose at her.

Angeline grabs the next card on the pile, reading it quickly before tucking it underneath the other ones, only then asking it out loud, “Were you a virgin when you met my daughter?”

The answer comes easy, “Yes.”

“I already knew that,” Angelina says, finding a camera she could look straight into, like a scene from The Office.

It was a given, and a wasted question – for them, at least; other participants might have a bit more of fun with it. Clarke grabs the next card, “What did you think of me when you first met me?”

Angelina eyes the empty shot glass, before straightening her shoulders and going for the answer, “Honestly? That you would be the reason Lexa wouldn’t get into an Ivy League school. She was so in love with you I couldn’t imagine her getting any studying done. Just doodling “Mrs. Griffin-Woods” on her homework.”

Clarke tries to hide her grin behind her water glass, because while Lexa did not doodle that on her homework, she did wrote it over and over again on the back of her notebooks, alternating between “Mrs. Griffin-Woods” and “Mrs. Woods-Griffin” to see which one had a better ring to it. They both knew they’d be “Mrs. Griffin-Woods” by the time they were seniors in high school.

“She did get into Yale though,” Clarke raises her glass of water, before taking another sip and settling it down beside her.

“So did you,” Angelina quirks her lips up and her eyes soften, in a pride that mimics Abby’s – it’s the same thing, the same love. “I stand corrected.” 

“Oh, that was mostly her doing,” Clarke brushes it off, pointing to Lexa. She’s given up working altogether by now, her headphones hanging around her neck, a far too amused smile playing on her lips as she leans against a desk. “Her work ethic has always been a little insane.”

Clarke  _ did _ bust her ass to get into Yale and to survive her years there – she’s still catching up on lost sleep, all-nighters merging together with only a few naps in between. But Lexa was something else in school. Getting up at five in the morning to get ahead of work and squeezing homework on a coffee date, Lexa still found time to go to most of the parties Clarke wanted to go to, still found time to be an incredible girlfriend. 

That’s something that easily translated into her work life. Except, apparently, when her wife and mother were having a drinking game.

“I guess that’s a little my fault,” Angelina looks over her shoulder and winks at her daughter. Then grabs the next card on the pile, a wicked grin curling her lips as she reads it, “What do you find most attractive on my daughter?”

Wetting her lips with the tip of her tongue, Clarke thinks about all the ways she’s attracted to Lexa, all the little things that make her fall in love a little more each day. Of course, they have their fights, the days where sitting side by side on the couch seems like a herculean ordeal. But oh, cooking breakfast in Lexa’s high school sweater, waiting for the other to get home so they can watch a new TV show together, walking around the neighborhood in the summer evenings, sitting with her best friend – that’s what their love is.

“Is it cheesy if I say everything?”

Angelina nods, her head hanging low for a beat too long – the tequila is working on her too. “Yes, you have to pick.”

Clarke finds Lexa again, and she sees her soft smile reflected on her wife’s face. It’s the same one she gets when they kiss each other hello in the evening and Sunday mornings. It’s the one that makes Clarke sure that, if nothing else, she made the right decision in falling in love with this girl. “How smart she is, even if she beats me in every goddamn game. How much she cares about everyone around her. Her strength.”

The set falls silent, a few people letting out a heartfelt ‘ _ aww _ ’, and when Lexa mouths ‘ _ I love you _ ’, it takes everything Clarke has not to get up and kiss her right there.

“Great, now give me a body part,” Angelina claps her hands together, leaning in and wiggling her eyebrows to get the dirt.

“Angie!”

The crew laughs at Clarke’s outraged gasp, and Angelina joins them easily, “Come on, I know you have one.”

Clarke has several – the slant of her neck, the dip of her cleavage, the beauty mark on her inner thigh, a place a little higher than that, her  _ fingers _ . None of that sounds even remotely appropriate to say in front of five cameras and her mother in law. She considers taking another shot, but that wasn’t even an official question. Damn it, Mrs. Woods.

“Her ass,” Clarke gives in after a moment. It’s not the most eloquent answer, but lord almighty, does Lexa have a great ass. Then her eyes drift to Lexa to find her rolling her eyes, teeth clenched in feigned indignation. Oh. Clarke changes her answer, “No, wait. Her jawline. Yes, her jawline.”

Taking a sip from the juice they were given as chaser that neither of them needed, Angelina carries on, in a surprisingly conversational tone. “What’s her favorite part of you?”

“Oh, my boobs. No doubt,” Clarke points to the gals, safely concealed in her high neck blouse. She had tried on one with a plunging neckline in the morning, and Lexa spilled her coffee all over her tablet before stammering an answer Clarke was too busy laughing to even try to understand.

“Has she named them?” 

The thought of telling her mother in law that yes, Lexa has named them, makes her feel a nudge  _ too _ sober. “Well, I’ll take the Fifth on that,” Clarke says, knowing fully well this isn’t a discreet answer by any standards. Clarke reads the next card, “If we decide to open up the marriage, would you want us to tell you?”

“Yes,” Angelina says after a beat, “Maybe just a heads up, nothing in detail. I just want to know enough so I don’t murder one of you when I see you kissing someone else.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” Clarke accepts, nodding along. But the idea of Lexa kissing anyone that isn’t her makes lead pool in her stomach, sinking it a few inches. She doesn’t even dare to attribute it to the tequila – it’s jealousy, it’s the simple fact that Lexa is  _ hers _ . “I don’t think we would though.”

Angelina scoffs in a half laughter, “You two are way too possessive for that.”

“Hey!” 

Her protest falls on deaf ears, and ever Clarke herself knows it’s half hearted at best.

“Just telling it how it is.” With a shrug, Angelina moves on to the next card. “What’s the biggest struggle you had so far in your marriage?”

The question gives Clarke pause. Her smile falls from her face and she barely catches herself on time, manages to suck her bottom lip in between her teeth to avoid showing the entire truth on her face.

Truth is, they’re going through their biggest struggle.

Clarke has been offered a job in Utrecht. It’s an opportunity like no other, and she’d take it in a heartbeat, if it didn’t mean she had to leave everything behind. If it didn’t mean either leaving Lexa an ocean away or asking for her to give up her promising career to go with her. If it didn’t mean turning their lives upside down and moving to a country with a completely different culture and language, away from their friends and family.

If only the Netherlands was close enough for her to commute back and forth every day.

Between late nights discussing it and an insane amount of pros and cons lists, they’re getting there. They’ve learned in the early days of their relationship that it had to be the both of them together against the problem, and not let the problem make them turn against one another – the pros and cons list started all the way in high school, when they weren’t sure they’d make it to the same university. 

It means a lot of compromising from both sides, and seeing things from the other’s perspective. It’s exhausting, but that’s how they make their entire relationship happen.

They haven’t gotten to a decision yet, and Clarke still has a couple weeks before the absolute deadline for her answer. Angelina doesn’t know that her only daughter might be moving to another continent yet, and a YouTube video doesn’t seem like the right place to tell her.

So, Clarke reaches for the tequila and silently pours herself another shot, downs it without a word. 

It doesn’t go down as smoothly as the first shot did, but it has more to do with the lump in her throat than how good the liquor is. As Clarke lets the weird shivers pass her through, she looks at Lexa – her lips form a tight line, but her nod is enough for her wife to know she did the right thing.

Angelina doesn’t say anything, but Clarke doesn’t have to meet her eyes to know she’s studying her, trying to figure out what she wouldn’t tell. They’ll have to tell her soon, whatever their decision is, but right now is not the time.

Without lingering in that question any longer, Clarke plucks the next card from the pile, “How could I treat your daughter better?”

The careful gaze gives way to a bright smile, the sudden shift being nothing if not a testament to just how sober they both are. “You make her happy, really happy. I know you two have your problems, but you work through them, you always have,” Angelina says in an almost whisper, and the microphone hanging above them lowers a little bit more. It’s a nod to the question that went unanswered. “I couldn’t have asked for a better daughter-in-law. I love you, babe.”

Clarke reaches out, finds Angelina already stretched out hand, squeezes it tightly. It’s not that her mother in law is shy about how she considers her part of her family, and it’s not the first time she told Clarke how glad she is that she makes her daughter so happy. But the comfort knowing that brings her can never quite be matched.

“I’m gonna cry. I blame the tequila,” Clarke says, after a moment, and she fixes her gaze on the lights above them – her tears don’t dry quickly enough, but she refuses to let them fall. She has made it this far. When she doesn’t hear the next question, Clarke lowers her gaze, tears barely staying behind her waterline, and finds Angelina pointing at her pile. So, she picks the next card, “Do you think your daughter and I will last?”

If her voice isn’t as steady as it could be, Clarke doesn’t even care. She really is blaming the tequila for it all.

It takes a beat for Angelina to answer – in that beat, she smiles at Clarke, with the fondness only a mother could muster, a smile that tells her everything will be fine, even if she herself doesn’t know what the issue even is.

“I don’t have a doubt in my heart that you two will grow old together.”

A tear rolls down Clarke’s cheek, and Angelina instinctively reaches over to wipe it away. Clarke leans on her palm when it’s offered to her and oh, she can feel the avalanche of feelings coming to the surface. It doesn’t help that Angelina has twin tears tumbling down towards her smile either.

“That’s the last question. Thank you, guys,” a muffled voice comes from somewhere in between the cameras, and Clarke doesn’t even bother looking for the source of it. They’re done. And more importantly, neither of them got alcohol poisoning.

“This was fun!” Clarke sniffs as Angelina gets up, far more steady than Clarke feels. Her legs are a little weak when Angelina opens her arms, but Clarke doesn’t waste another second to sink into her hug, “I didn’t expect to cry, but it was fun.”

Angelina laughs into her shoulder, and Clarke tightens her grip around her. With a kiss to her temple, her mother in law whispers into her ear, “I’m still murdering your wife for dragging me into it.”

Letting go of her until only their hands are linked, Angelina and Clarke walk towards the most important woman of their lives together, “Oh, I’ll help.”


End file.
